The Room
by The King of Pop
Summary: Harry Potter wasn't the only person to ever find the Room of Requirement. Pansy Parkinson was quite lucky to have relief during 5th Year. Pansy focused oneshot, Mental Illness awareness based.
1. Chapter 1

**Just because I can. And the Harry Potter section needs a bit of variety that doesn't involve massive bashings, contracts, and GodHarry. Enjoy.**

The Room was quite a neat bit of magic indeed. Discovering it had actually been a random occurrence, a freak accident while roaming the halls in a manic daze. Since then it had been put to use as often as possible. Sometimes it was just a nice retreat from all the drama going on between the students and the irritating House rivalries. Sometimes the limits of the Room were put to the test, such as what could be spawned and of any conditions that could be added.

Incredible all around.

So far a month had passed since its discovery, a month of complete hell since that Umbridge woman began to really throw her weight around. At times school could be strenuous anyway, now with all these Decrees being made left and right it was worse. Joining the Inquisitor Squad had merely been a means of keeping one's self out of sight from that horrid 'Professor'.

Enforcing rules was well and good, it had its time and place, but the Decrees took rules to a nauseating new meaning. At least time could be spent in the Room to forget the world surrounding yourself. Especially since the project back home had been left once the new school year started. Not anymore however. Sometimes all that was needed to let out a day's worth of irritation, stress, and anger was to just grab a piece of sandpaper and start sanding from the last place. Or to lay on the hood and just daydream.

The disease made things a lot harder, each day was a struggle, some worse than others. Saving face in front of everyone took an effort certain days. Episodes of mania where one's mood was so excited or aggressive that normal function was nigh-impossible. Lows so bad that life felt absolutely meaningless and sometimes suicide looked appealing for the simple reasoning of 'just because'. Mood swings were terrible as well, especially the ones that happened lightning-quick, multiple times a day. The moods cause behavior that wasn't normal, almost like being Imperioused, the brain not working right causing one to not know they weren't truly at fault. Medication for the Bi-Polar Disorder was not allowed at Hogwarts, which was complete shit, being put under the list of things seen as 'Not a positive contribution to the development of young witches and wizards'.

Potions were expected to be taken in place of muggle medicine. It didn't work one bit however, how could it? In almost every case the Wizarding World was far behind the muggle one that advancements for the betterment of humanity were cast aside in favor of traditional ways. _Fucking stupid_ is how that was seen. Potions could heal a lot of things medicine could not, but diseases of the mind were not one of them. It was not some ailment that could be alleviated, or some injuring to be mended. Bi-Polar, and other mental illnesses like it, were largely cause by an imbalance of _chemicals_ within the brain.

Potions couldn't fix that. Not yet, perhaps not ever the way wizard society was going about it. Potions could not fix an imbalanced brain.

Another long, rough day resulted in more sanding. It was so….therapeutic. Who cared about the despair around when all that mattered was the sound of the sandpaper on metal, the consistent motions that let one lose themselves. Yes, for now sanding would have to do. Perhaps next time something else, but for now, sanding.

_Later_

Dumbledore's Army had been meeting for four and a half weeks now. Seven meetings had taken place since that first gathering in the Hog's Head, and though some members took longer to learn a new spell or get some technique of wand movement down, everyone was progressing nicely in Harry's opinion. Today would be meeting number eight, and he wanted to really get some Shielding practice in. While most had the protection spell down, a handful were still only producing weak shields that broke after two or three spells. Besides, it was a Thursday, so with having gone through a long day, any day of having to deal with Umbridge was long, he wasn't really in a mood to teach anything new.

Most of the members were following behind him as they quickly made their way to the seventh floor corridor where the Room was located. He gazed down at the Marauder's Map here and there, looking out for Umbridge, Snape, Filch, Malfoy, and anyone from the Inquisitor Squad. So far they were safe, but that didn't mean they would have time to drag their feet. Finally rounding the corner to the hallway where the Room was, everyone stopped to stare at the spot that normally would be a blank wall until the Room was called.

This time a simple door was upon the wall.

Harry checked the Map to see if it would tell him who or what might be inside, but even the Marauders had been unable to locate the Room, and the Map was not a powerful enough magical object to pierce the protective charms of the Room of Requirement. The young Seeker had little time to come up with another solution as the Map showed the name _Filch_ making steady progress towards the seventh floor. Knowing that it was probably a bad idea, he stowed the Map and turned to everyone.

"Inside, quick. Filch is coming so the less time out here the better." Of course being the leader Harry would wait till everyone else, Ron and Hermione included, entered the Room before he himself went. Last to enter and last to leave. It was just his way of doing this.

Once the group was inside Harry was quick to command the Room to make the door in the hall disappear, just in case Filch, or anyone really, noticed an extra entryway that wasn't normally there. That taken care of, everyone was looking around trying to find who was using the Room, or perhaps a clue as to their identity. Harry couldn't understand how anyone else was able to find this place, and was more confused by the car that was placed on concrete blocks.

It looked American, though what year or kind he didn't know. Half of it was covered in rust and a faded gold color, the other half looked to have been sanded down to the gray metal beneath. It had no wheels or tires, the rear window was gone, and the hood was missing. Other than that it seemed all there. Ginny looked inside, only to frown and back away.

"What is it?" Ron stepped up beside her, look inside, then as red as his hair. "You!" The driver's side down was yanked open so hard the hinges screeched in protest and the Gryffindor Prefect grabbed ahold of someone and dragged them out roughly.

"Wha-," The person had been sleeping in the car, Ron rudely and roughly waking them when he removed them.

"Parkinson," Ron spat the name out like it was rotten food, shoving the Slytherin Prefect away and pointing his wand at her. His was not the only wand drawn, nearly everyone following his example, save for Luna, Hermione, and Harry.

"How'd you find this room? Did someone tell you?" Ginny had her wand jammed almost painfully into the girl's throat. She was surprised to see the hateful girl in the situation: sleeping in a Muggle car, wearing denim shorts and a blue tank top, her eyes wild and expression upset. That didn't mean the youngest Weasley would let her guard down.

"I found it on my own at the beginning of the year. This is _my_ secret place. Go away!" Even with multiple wands trained on her Pansy wasn't going to let them push her around. This was her room, not theirs, she was here first. She wanted a place to have peace away from everything, a place to work on her project, a place to handle the Bipolar Disorder without interruption.

"I say we wipe her memory of us and this room. She's on the Inquisitor Squad for Merlin's sake, she'll tell Umbridge the second we let her go." Zacharias Smith, the resident aggressor of Dumbledore's Army, moved closer to Ginny and Pansy. His wand was held at his side, but the tip was lit up with blue light, a spell ready to fly.

Pansy's anger melted away instantly, her eyes misting when she started shaking her head. "No don't do that. Please! I….I love this room. It's the only place I feel safe in this school." Despite the wands in everyone's hands she walked back over to the car and leaned onto the side, as if she were being embraced. "Nothing feels good anymore, nothing except this." Her hand lightly patted the roof of the car, her frown momentarily turning into a small smile.

Hermione waved her hands to the rest of the D.A., signaling them to put down their wands. "What do you mean Parkinson? Why do things not feel good?" The bookworm had never seen the usually hateful Slytherin girl act this way. She was so…..vulnerable, and acting so weird.

The dark-haired girl poked at some surface rust on the door, switching her gaze over to the bushy-haired Gryffindor, "Parents can't stand my existence…..say I'm an embarrassment to them. They can't deal with the fact their daughter has a hard time dealing with life. No reputable Pureblood family would admit to having a child with a mental illness."

Ron decided to interject his opinion then, "Who cares if you're bloody crazy Parkinson, this is-"

"Shut the fuck up!" Pansy managed to get within two feet of the redhead, but wands in her face stopped her short. "I'm not crazy. I'm not crazy. Just," She shook her head as if she were dizzy, "Can't control the moods. Up and down, it's so hard."

The Prefect walked back to her car, opening the door and revealing the bare interior. No carpet, no seats, nothing. She sat down on the rusty metal, placing her head in her hands, "This Duster is all that makes me able to get through summer break. The Room brought it here for me, so that I can work on it whenever I want." She looked up at the D.A., eyeing the three who hadn't pulled a wand yet. "Just because I'm a Pureblood doesn't make me a bad person."

Harry had made a decision by then, motioning for everyone's attention. "It'll be ok everyone. We can….share the Room with Parkinson. She's not doing anything wrong, and if she tells Umbridge about us she'll be in trouble too. I'm sure that woman will find some way to punish her for having a Muggle car on school grounds."

Pansy looked at Harry in shock, not believing he would actually accept her, a Slytherin, and not agree to wipe her memory. In the past she had always taunted him and his friends, not because she wanted to, but because she was trying to fit in with her peers. Despite all that, the Gryffindor wasn't holding a grudge against her. Perhaps things would get better for her, or perhaps she could get her problem under some form of control.

**Like I said, I did it because I can. Super/Political/Harem/LordHarry gets just a little old after you've seen a hundred of them, and all following the same formula. Plus all the stories portraying Slytherin characters as mindless thugs kind of gets old too. This story was also an outlet for me to write a little about mental illness. I suffer from Bipolar Disorder myself, and before I finally got help my life was a daily struggle. Spread the word about mental illness; to understand and be there for those suffering, not to judge or belittle. Thank you. P.S., this is the start of some oneshot ficlets involving Bipolar Pansy with her Plymouth Duster. Later.**


	2. Chapter 2

This was the second time that Pansy ran into Dumbledore's Army within the Room of Requirement. Unlike the first time where they had intruded upon her using it, this meeting occurred with her walking in during a lesson about the Patronus Charm. Once she had walked in everyone stopped what they were doing, but she would not be cowed by their judgmental stares. Well, Luna, Harry, Hermione, and surprisingly Ginny were not giving her hostile looks. For that she was somewhat grateful, but she didn't really have time to think about anything right now.

Moving to a side of the Room that was unoccupied she closed her eyes and thought hard of what she wanted to appear. A second later and her Duster appeared before her, a little less rust than the last time the DA had seen it. Pansy moved to the trunk and pulled out a long, thin box, the word _Edelbrock _printed on the side. Another quick thought for the Room and an engine stand appeared in front of the car, with an engine bolted to it ready to be worked on.

The Slytherin Prefect sat the box down and returned to the trunk, this time pulling out a tube of grease and some disposable gloves. Moving back to the engine, Pansy opened the box and pulled out a camshaft; the grind made to make power in higher RPMs than the stock one she'd taken out a week ago. The next several minutes were spent rubbing grease onto each lobe of the camshaft. It wouldn't do to have a lobe flatten within a few days of the engine running because she was careless assembling it after all, and the time and money to repair such damage would likely infuriate the teen.

Once that was finished she slowly and carefully inserted the camshaft into the front of the engine until it was fully installed. Finished with the job, she removed the dirty gloves and picked up the empty box. They were thrown into trunk with some previously discarded trash, while the grease was placed next to a socket set. So into her own world, Pansy didn't notice someone approach her side.

"Do you need help with anything?"

Pansy yelped in fright, stumbling sideways and almost tripping over her own feet. Hermione stood wide-eyed, obviously not expecting such an outburst from her fellow Prefect. Pansy shook her head to clear it, then held up a finger, scratching her cheek with it.

"Ah, well I guess I don't _not_ need help. If, ah, that makes any sense." Her face brightened with a huge smile, showing all her teeth to the other teen. "I know! You can put the lifters in while I put the heads and head gaskets on. Here, I'll show you." Energized like she had just swallowed ten Red Bull, Pansy grabbed Hermione's hand and pulled her over to the engine. "Ah, wait, damn." She ran back to the trunk, grabbed a small box, and returned.

"Um, I guess I can do that. What do you have to do?" Hermione, for all her knowledge and book smarts, knew _nothing_ about how to put an engine together, or about cars in general really. She would try though, as she was curious about how Pansy was when not around the rest of the school. Their last encounter within the Room showed there was more to the other girl than what showed on the surface.

Opening the box, 16 lifters sitting neatly inside, Pansy pulled one out and showed it to the bookworm. "Well, here's what you do."

They might not really be 'friends' per say, but it was a start. Perhaps Pansy would ask Hermione for help with her mental problems if things went well, only time could tell.

**Another oneshot, took some time from this to do other things, but hopefully these will come at a decent pace.**


End file.
